Shisha
by raynietheelf
Summary: Sansa is coerced into going to the hookah bar with Joffrey. Thank the gods that Sandor is there to keep her company. (Just some random drabble I thought up after coming home from the hookah bar. I really like writing bad(ish) girl Sansa.)


Smoke seemed to ooze out of the open door of Oasis. Sansa took a deep breath, and took her first steps into the hookah bar. The person standing behind the desk held out his hand and Sansa handed over her bright, shiny, new, completely fake, ID card. The kid glanced at it, and gestured her to the back before handing it back. She took the card and quickly walked back. Her eyes scanned the smoke filled room and looked for the usual group.

"Sansa! We're back here!" Joffrey squawked from some obscure corner in the hazy room.

She blinked a couple times, trying to clear her eyes, and saw him waving his hand. When she reached the table, she saw that everyone was there. Joffrey, Margaery, Boros, Blount, and hidden by the thick some, Sandor. She didn't know why he was even there, since the man seemed uncomfortable with the idea of fire. She put her fake ID, the one Joffrey had forced her to obtain, back in her purse and crawled over Margaery and Blount to sit down, between Joffrey and Sandor, who wordlessly handed her the thick black cord to the hookah. She stared blankly at it.

"You suck on it, stupid," came Joffrey's drawl from her right.

"Only if she wants to, Joff. She doesn't do this type of thing," Sandor retorted. He turned towards her. Sansa could feel his eyes on her, through the haze. "Do you?"

Sansa nodded, then realized it might be too dark to see. "I guess. Since I'm here."

"That's my girl!" Joffrey crowed and cheered as she took a tiny puff of the hookah. She tasted peaches on the back of her tongue.

"Peach white jasmine," Sandor said, in answer to her unasked question. "We also have double apple, that one tastes like black licorice, and strawberry margarita."

"Can I try the apple one?"

Wordlessly, Sandor handed it over. The nozzle seemed a little different than the others, since it was filled with ice. Sansa sucked in the flavored smoke and almost laughed.

"It's cold!"

"Well, DUH. Sometimes you're so retarded, Sansa."

"Joffrey, shut up! Try the strawberry one." Margaery giggled. Apparently, she'd been here for the last three hours, just smoking hookah.

Sandor's whisper came from her left. "Don't listen to him. He acts like he knows everything, but he's been asking questions all night." The smoke crawled from between his lips. Sansa started, transfixed by the image. Realizing she was staring, she took a hasty puff of the apple one again.

"I like this one the best."

The corner of Sandor's lip twitched into an almost smile. "Me too. The ice tip is pretty good."

Sansa had to smile at him. Even though Joffrey was a huge jerk, she knew Sandor would try to help her have a good night. He took the hose from her and took a huge puff of the hookah, that he blew out into even rings.

"How are you even…" Sansa paused, unsure how to word the question.

Sandor understood. He always did. "No flames, little bird. The coals are pre-lit."

"Oh. I see." Puff, puff, exhale.

"What about you? This isn't your thing." Puff, puff, exhale.

"Joffrey made me."

"You can say no." Exhale, rings, puff, puff.

"No. No, I really can't." Puff, choke. Too big of a breath. Smaller puff. Better.

"You're right. You can't. You don't know how to say no to anyone."

"Yes I do!"

Sandor laughed and blew the smoke in her face. "No, you don't. Sansa, you don't like smoking hookah do you?"

Sansa looked over at Joffrey, who wasn't even paying any attention to her at all. He was flirting with Margaery instead.

"It's not so bad."

Sandor laughed again.

"Okay! Okay, I don't really like it. I feel like I'm going to get cancer."

"Probably." He took another drag. "Oh, Sansa. Look at that time. Didn't you say something about your father wanting you home early?"

Sansa stared, and realized he was offering her a way out. "Oh, yeah. Yeah, he did. Can you take me home? I took a cab here."

"Where are you going?" Joffrey asked. The fact that Sansa was leaving was enough to draw his attention away from Margaery.

"Her dad wants her home."

"She's just too pussy to smoke with us. Go. You're boring anyway. Take her home, dog."

The insult didn't reach Sandor. He had already walked away. Sansa hastily gathered her things and jogged to catch up with him.

"Thanks."

"Anytime, little bird."

And she knew he meant it. He would be there for her, anytime at all. Sansa smiled a little at him.

"What are you grinning about, girl?"

"You pretend to be so tough, that you're the Hound, but you're really nice aren't you?" She shivered as the cold air from outside hit her.

"Not nice. Just to you."

"So why are you so nice to me then?"

He stopped. "You ask a lot of questions."

"But why are-"

Sandor whipped around to face her. The street light cast shadows that emphasized the horrible burns. Inside Oasis, the smoke hid them, letting her forget they were there.

"Do you want a ride home or not?"

Sansa nodded, and followed him.


End file.
